Frailty
by ZombieJazz
Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed. Story 8 of series.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

Will let out a sigh as he got to the bottom of the stairs and glanced over toward the kitchen where he heard rattling. The phone was still clutched to his ear while he tried to pay attention – and engage with – the final notes of his conversation. But now, his attention had really shifted to where he could see his wife's silhouette through the serving window – clearly working away at dishes at the sink.

He started to wander over as he listened to his colleague on the other end of the line – making some listening sounds just to try to prove he was actually taking it in. When he got into the dining room, he stood in front of the window and gazed at her. She didn't react immediately. She looked focused on what she was doing – but he knew it was really that she was using it as an excuse to try to focus on nothing at all. When she finally did glance up, he raised an eyebrow at her – questioning what she was doing and why she was bothering to do it, questioning where their son was. But she only raised an eyebrow back at him and then broke the eye contact and looked back to the sink.

Will let out another small sigh but apparently his colleague heard that one and asked if everything was OK with what was being said.

Will shook his head and turned away from Olivia a bit. "No, yeah," he stumbled awkwardly. "That all sounds fine." He nodded into the phone. "Yeah. I appreciate that. … Yeah, I'll definitely be in touch in a couple days. Let you know what's happening. … Yeah. … No, really, let's just started with the rest of this week. … Ah, no, Liv and I haven't really talked about the details yet. … No, no. I don't want to do that just yet. … Yeah. … OK, I'll talk to you soon."

He let out another slow breath as he hung-up and then looked at Olivia again. She apparently wasn't that interested in the end of the conversation she'd heard – and was even less interested in talking to him. Or at least making eye contact with him.

"Where's Noah?" Will asked.

"He fell asleep," she said flatly.

"In the basement?" She nodded. "You want me to move him upstairs?"

She shook her head. "No. Let him sleep. He's tired."

"OK," Will allowed and stood looking at her in silence again for a long moment. "What were you watching?" he asked, trying again. Trying desperately to draw them out of the silence.

But she just shrugged. "Some cartoon. Netflix. I wasn't really watching."

Will gazed at her. He was trying desperately to find words that night but he was struggling. He didn't know what to say. So instead he was trying to figure out what to do.

"Why don't you let me do that," he offered, putting his phone the sill and moving around and through the door of the kitchen. "You can go sit with Noah."

She just shook her head at him again. "It's fine. I'm letting him rest. He doesn't need me sitting with him right now."

He looked at her. Liv rarely gave up the opportunity to sit with her son – even if it was just to stare at one of his TV shows. She near always thought the boy needed her – and the reality was, he did.

"Well, then, let me do it and you go sit down," he said. "You get some rest for a while too."

She looked up at him – her eyes were annoyed. "I'm fine, Will," she said flatly – but firmly.

He knew that was a lie too. She wasn't fine. Far from it. She couldn't be. He wasn't.

"Then, at least, just … rinse them," he blurted. "You don't need to be washing them. Just rinse them and put them in the dishwasher."

"I'm not doing it any differently than you ever do," she muttered at him and went back to the sudsy sink where she was clearly far more than rinsing the dishes that she was then putting in the dishwasher after finishing each.

"And you're always telling me that I wash them," he pressed. It'd tried to make it sound like a tease but he wasn't sure it sounded that way. To her or to him.

But she just shrugged. "Oh well …" she allowed.

He let out another slow breath. "So I called Joe," he provided.

"I heard," she allowed.

"I cancelled my meetings and office hours. Got that deadline pushed back. And, he's going to deal with getting other people to take on my lectures for the rest of the week."

"You didn't have to do that," Olivia said.

He looked at her – again trying to measure what he was supposed to be saying or doing. "I kind of did," he provided. "There's going to be a lot of information over the next few days. I don't want to miss it."

Another shrug. "You missed it last time. I did fine hearing it on my own."

It stung. A lot. He wasn't sure if she meant it to or not. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. That even if she meant it to hurt – it was only because she was hurting too. Or it was that she really hadn't thought about what she was saying before she said it. She was distracted. She was focused on other things.

"Well, that was then," Will said flatly. "This is now."

She glanced at him and he let out another sigh, leaning against the counter.

"Are you going to call your Captain?" he asked. She shook her head. "Liv … you've got to tell him."

"I will," she said more quietly. "It's just not a conversation I want to have on the phone." He felt himself shrink as she said that. "I'll go in tomorrow."

"You aren't going to have time," he said quietly, gazing at her hard. He was starting to feel himself losing it. He thought he'd been holding it together fairly well since the afternoon. But now? In the quiet. At home. With Noah sleeping. As they started to set things in motion. As they started to sort things out. As they had to talk to each other – and didn't put up a front for their son. Reality was seeping in and Will felt his heart breaking and his whole being sink into that countertop. He wanted to disappear. To hide. But mostly he wanted to cry.

"I'll go in after," she said.

"Liv … " he said and he felt the faintest crack in his voice. He hoped she hadn't heard it. "You aren't going to want to go in after."

She shrugged again. "I'll manage."

"Noah's going to want you with him," Will pressed instead.

"He'll be fine with you," she said. "I won't be long."

Will just shook his head and examined the floor for far too long. "We need to tell my parents."

"I'm not doing that over the phone either," Olivia said and cast him a sterner look.

He glanced up at her. "I'll do it," he assured.

"You aren't doing it over the phone either," she said firmly. "We'll tell them on the weekend. When we're over for dinner."

Will let out a sound and made himself look up at the ceiling – mostly to try to force tears back into his eyes. "We can't wait until the weekend to tell them," he said at a near whisper.

Olivia shook her head. "Then we'll figure something else out," she said.

"They're going to call tonight wanting to know how things went," Will said. "Or I have to send my mom her daily email and picture."

"So sent her something," Olivia said. "But you aren't telling them by phone or email."

Will let out another breathe and brought his eyes to hers. They looked so tired. So sad. Probably sadder than his. They looked defeated.

"How'd Noah seem?" he asked.

She shrugged and went back to washing the dishes again. "Fine. The same was before. A little tired."

"He say anything," Will asked.

Olivia shook her head. "Not really."

"You think he's absorbing what's going on?" Will asked.

She looked at him again with that comment. "He's not stupid, Will," she said with a tone that clearly said he'd upset her.

But Noah hadn't been in the room when they talked to the doctor. Will wasn't sure that their little boy really knew what the appointment was about. Or maybe that was just his hope.

"What about you?" he asked cautiously. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Will," she put flatly.

He sighed again and shifted against the counter, turning closer to her and edging into her space in front of the sink.

"Really, Liv," he said, "let me do this. You look exhausted."

Her eyes found his again. "I'm fine, Will," she said even more firmly – but he could hear the change in her voice.

"No, you aren't," he pushed back. "Go … sit down. Rest."

"I don't need to sit down. I don't need to rest," she told him. Her eyes burning into him. Or at least they were trying to. They couldn't. Not really. Not when he could see them starting to water.

Will put his hand against her bicep and gave it a small squeeze. "Babe … just go … and try to zone out for a few minutes. Let me handle this."

"Zone out?" she spat at him. It was harsh. "Zone out. You want me to zone out right now?" she shook her head. "You go zone out. I've got to do this. Then I've got to get my son …"

"Our son," Will corrected. She turned and glared at him. But he just rubbed her bicep again. "You're exhausted. Just go … sit … for a few minutes. Figure out how you want to deal with this over the next few days."

She let out a laugh and shook her head. "Deal with this over the next few days?" she muttered and pushed him again. "I don't want to deal with this the next few days. I don't want to deal with this. Period."

"Yea … me neither," Will allowed. "But we'll figure it out. Together."

She turned and looked at him. "Would you fuck off," she spat at him.

He felt himself gape at her. He hadn't expected that. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure how it felt. He knew it should hurt but he thought he might be so numb in that moment that it didn't hurt. It just smacked to the point that the wind was knocked out of him. But then the wind really did get knocked out of him as she pushed at his chest – open hands whapping there with a force that further surprised him.

"Would you just get the fuck away from me," she said. "Give me some fucking space. Go do whatever it is that you think you need to be doing tonight."

"Liv …" he stuttered – but it was the wrong thing to say. Her hands hit at him again and he took a step back before reaching and trying to grab at her wrists that pummeling at his chest and shoulders – striking with a power that he knew was likely leaving marks. That would likely leave bruises.

There was enough force to them that she was almost grunting with the impact but her face was a flurry. He didn't think she could even see where she was hitting. Tears had started to stream and she was in a near blind flurry as she struck him.

"Hey …," he tried to say calmly and he grabbed at her flailing hands. "Stop it," he added more firmly.

But she just let out a roar. A rage and an agony that he'd never quite heard out of her before. But with the force of it her whole body just collapsed onto itself and she crumpled to the floor.

"Liv," he cried out again and scrambled to her himself down next to her – checking to make sure she was OK.

She was. Physically. But she was a mess of tears. She whole body shook with the sobs rattling her. Her face was flushed and red. The tears seemed to have taken over its entire surface. He could hardly disgusting any of her features. It was all just utmost sadness. An agony that had completely overtaken her to the point she was trembling with the ferocity of it.

He slid down next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him as they huddled against the cupboards on their kitchen floor. He rocked her and held her as she tremored. He made shushing sounded and pressed kisses into her temple and the crown of her head, trying to pull back the strands of her hair away from the streaks of tears and snot that had completely taken over her face.

"You're OK," he assured gently.

She just let an even more rattled sob at that. It sounded like a wounded animal being taken to slaughter. Utter defeat, yet there was almost an anger to it too.

"Stop saying that," Olivia managed to sputter out. "Just stop fucking saying that. It's not OK."

"It's going to be OK," Will tried again.

"It's not," Olivia cried. "I can't do this again."

"You can," Will pressed gently and put another kiss against her temple as she writhed under him. The woman he loved melting into a puddle like he'd never seen before. Her tears just sending him over the edge and his own body trembling too.

His tears streamed as he tried to convince them both that it'd be OK. That they'd pull through. But the truth was he didn't know how it could be OK. He didn't feel like it was OK. He felt terrified. He felt so scared that he felt ill to his stomach. Yet he felt completely empty at the same time. He couldn't focus on the reality of it. He couldn't even comprehend that it was happening.

He didn't know what to do.

He was her husband. Noah's father. And he didn't have a clue what to do. What to say. How to fix this.

He was at an utter loss. All he could do was hold her. But he didn't really feel like that was helping.

His wife felt broken.

"We'll figure it out," he tried.

"I can't," Olivia cried. "I can't. Not again. Not my son."

"It's going to be OK," Will whispered. A mantra that he felt was more to convince himself that her at that point. "It's going to be OK."

"It's not," Olivia sobbed. "It's not."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

"She must be pregnant," May said as she began to wipe off the kitchen counter, giving Ted a glance where he was still working at drying off dishes.

"I think we should just wait and see and not be making any assumptions," he told her sternly.

May had been completely abuzz since Willie had called them in the middle of the afternoon and invited them into the city for dinner the next day. It'd been Ted who'd picked up the phone – so he hadn't asked many questions about the invitation. It hadn't struck him as overly odd. Though, he supposed it was a little odd. Usually if they were going to be headed into the city it was on a Wednesday afternoon and they usually didn't stay for dinner. But this was a direct invitation from their son to join them for a meal.

Still, Ted hadn't thought much of it at the time beyond calling across the house to May to make sure she didn't have any plans that evening with her woman-folk. When she'd confirmed she was free, he'd readily told William that they'd be there. End of story. It wasn't like they got a lot of invitations where they weren't the ones doing the cooking. And, they hadn't seen their grandson for nearly two weeks at that point.

That was too much of a stretch. You needed to keep on top of kids at that age or all of a sudden they'd grown-up right before your eyes and you missed it. Ted had missed too much of it with his own boys. He wasn't missing it with his grandkids. The goddamn Parkinson's was likely going to scheme so he'd miss some of it with some of the youngens anyways. While it was in his control – he was going to miss as little of it as possible. That took a bit more effort with Noey since Willie and Olivia insisted they liked living in Manhattan. As far as he was concerned that had to be the worst borough to live in – not matter what the two of them said, and no matter how nice their townhouse apartment was. But he didn't go at them about it the way May did. It was their life and their family and their child. They were adults with important careers. They were fully capable of making decisions that they felt worked the best for them and their boy. End of story. Again.

But when he'd told May after hanging up the phone that they were heading up to the Upper West Side for dinner the next evening, she'd acted like that was staggeringly shocking news. She'd wanted to know why.

"Because Willie invited us for dinner," Ted had told her.

"But why?" May had asked confused.

Ted had shrugged. "I assume because we didn't get in there today," he said.

"I thought they didn't want us in today," May pressed.

"Well, no," Ted said. "Willie had said it wouldn't be a good week for us to be in there today."

"But now he wants us to go in tomorrow?"

"Well, not to help with the cleaning or errands this week," Ted said. "He said they want to have us over for dinner."

"That's all?" May had asked.

"Well, he said they had something they wanted to talk to us about too," Ted said.

"What?" May pressed.

"Well, I don't know," Ted said. "I didn't ask. I figured we'd find out soon enough. Or that it was just a turn of phrase or something. Obviously we're going to talk to them while we're at dinner."

May looked at him like he'd completely missed the boat in that conversation with his son. "Did he sound OK?" she asked.

Ted shrugged. "He sounded like Willie."

"He didn't sound upset or sad?" May asked. "Like he and Olivia are fighting?"

"Oh, dear Lord, May," Ted sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. "They aren't having us in for dinner to tell us they're getting a divorce."

"Well, then, did he sound happy?" May asked. "Or excited?"

"When does Willie ever sound happy or excited?" Ted put back to her.

Their son had to be one of the most even-tempered people he'd ever met in his life. He didn't seem to get overly worked up about much of anything. Good or bad. His voice and personality seemed to be in a pretty permanent plateau. Ted had dealt with the kid his whole life and still wasn't an expert at reading his emotions – especially in the tone of his voice over the phone!

But that'd been when all the speculation had started – and hadn't stopped since. Ted had had to take some time-outs from it, because he could only tolerate it so much. He really didn't see the point of wondering endlessly about it when they'd be seeing them all the next evening. Clearly it wasn't that pressing.

Though, it was pressing enough for May that she'd started calling William and Olivia's phones. Ted was certain they'd been seeing her calls and knew exactly what was going on and had decided not to pick it up because they really didn't want to deal with May or talk about whatever it was just yet either. But May had taken that to mean they were avoiding her – so that clearly meant that something terrible was going on.

Ted had gotten sick of hearing that too so he'd suggested that maybe they weren't answering their calls because they were at work and didn't have time to be dealing with her 20 questions when they'd be seeing her in less than 24 hours. Apparently that wasn't a reasonable assumption – so he'd instead suggested that maybe it was really good news they had and they really wanted to share it with her in person and not tell her over the phone. That they wanted to see her reaction.

Ted hadn't put a whole lot of thought into what good news might be when he'd said it. He'd mostly said it in the hopes of getting her to stop fretting. But instead he'd created a completely different kind of monster. A baby monster. The baby talk had started and it hadn't stopped – and it was grating on his nerves.

"Well, they are trying to get pregnant, Theodore," she put to him – giving him that look that only his wife could make. The tell-off, put-you-in-your-place with one single glance and accompanying tone look.

"Robbie really shouldn't have told you that," Ted said.

May made a pishposh wave with her hand, like that wasn't of any consequence.

"He betrayed his brother's confidence," Ted told her sternly. "And, I don't much appreciate that you dragged me into it by telling me too."

"Oh, come now," May said, "us knowing they're trying to have a baby isn't a big deal."

"May, it's their personal business – and if they wanted us to know, we'd know," Ted told her.

"Well, they shouldn't have been telling Robert if they didn't want us to know," May said and scrubbed more at a spot on the counter that apparently had some sort of invisible dried food on it.

"Apparently," Ted muttered.

"Ted, I'm sure them wanting a baby isn't a state secret," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes ever so slightly at him.

"Not a state secret," Ted said, "but certainly their personal, private business. You know how Willie is with these things. AND – Olivia."

Olivia was quite possibly even worse than William when it came to these kinds of things. They were both so intensely private and secretive. This would not be an area of discussion that they'd be pleased he and May are having. And, Ted was sure that it would be damaging to his two sons' relationship if William ever caught wind that Robert had slipped up with his mother. Clearly what had been a private conversation had somehow got implied to May and after May knew anything – pretty much all of Staten Island did. Thankfully, Willie didn't spend a lot of time on Staten Island to know that.

"It's not a big deal," May said again. "They're a married couple, Ted. They're supposed to be trying to have a baby."

"May," he stressed to her, "they've been together for years and we have never heard so much as a peep from them about wanting to have a baby."

"Oh, Theodore. Can you imagine the kind of baby they'd make? They'll have a beautiful baby."

"They do have a beautiful baby," he put back to her. "Your grandson. Noah."

She huffed at him. "You know I love my grandbaby and that little boy is gorgeous. But another grandbaby with William's genetics mixed in with Olivia's? Can you see it? Oh. I hope the baby gets William's goldie locks. Those curls when he was a little boy."

She just glowed as she said it. It almost made Ted said – because if the news was anything other than this, May was going to take it so badly. Not to mention now it got him thinking about the possibility of another grandkid on the scene too. And just the some vague wondering about if his youngest even wanted a prodigy of his own. He wasn't sure his son was too bothered by it either way. It seemed that William had always treated Noey as his own – as long as he'd witnessed his son with Olivia and that boy anyhow. And now that they'd been watching Noey grow up for years too, Ted was pretty confident in saying that even though Willie's genes didn't make up the little boy, there was a pretty good amount of Willie in the boy. Noey was a McTeague – whether Olivia liked that muchor not.

"May," Ted sighed, "they aren't some 20-something newlyweds. It's not like they can just have a baby whenever they want."

May's eyes laughed at him. "Well, certainly not all 20-something newlyweds can just have babies whenever they want either, Theodore."

"You know what I mean," Ted told her a bit more certainly. "They aren't young people anymore."

"They aren't that old, Ted," she said. "William's our baby."

"Our baby who turned forty early this year," Ted put back to her. "And we both know Olivia has a few years head start on him too."

"They aren't that old," May pressed. "Women – couples – they're putting off having babies until later and later anymore. And they've got the McTeague potency going for them. Robert and Thomas certainly haven't had any problems growing their families."

Ted let out a breath and put down the plate he'd been drying. "Just because Robbie and Tommy had did the Irish Catholic thing, doesn't mean that's what Willie wants."

"Well, of course, it's not what William wants," May said. "Clearly. William is not his brothers. I only meant that fertility doesn't seem to be a problem among you men."

Ted let out another noise. "And just because it hasn't been an issue for me or the boys doesn't mean that it's not a problem for Willie. Or for Olivia," Ted pressed to her more firmly.

"Well, clearly Olivia doesn't have a fertility problem," May said. "She has Noey … with that … man …"

"May, please don't go implying that it was some one night-stand or unplanned pregnancy," Ted said. "It's none of our business and we don't know the details. And the details don't matter. We have a beautiful grandson who we love dearly that Olivia brought into our lives. That is all you need to know."

"Of course …" May said.

She seemed to get quiet for a moment and Ted hoped that maybe that meant that she was finally taking the hint and the conversation was being dropped. He took it as an opportunity to get back to the dish drying. He wanted to get it finished up so he could go downstairs and watch the game. Hopefully May wouldn't interrupt that with even more babble.

"What is they are having trouble getting pregnant, Theodore?" May lamented only moments after he started drying again.

Ted let out a loud sigh. "I really doubt that they'd be having us over to tell us they are having trouble getting pregnant," he said.

"Unless maybe William wants our blessing to try some fertility treatments or in-vitro or something of that sort? You know, because of the Church?"

Ted let out a sound. "May, we both know that William doesn't much care what the Church says about much of anything. And, they both do things their own way. We've respected that. That's how we've re-established our relationship with our son. So if they're looking into those kinds of options – that is their business and we aren't saying a word about it. Is that clear? We will be happy to have another grandchild – no matter how the child came into being. End of story."

May gave a little nod but then gaped. "What if it's that they need money to help with the fertility treatments?"

Ted let out a completely exasperated breathe and threw up his hands slightly. "MAY!"

"Well, could we help them?"

"I'm sure God will forgive us …"

"No, no, not that," May said. "Could we afford to help them?"

Ted sighed. "I'm sure we could work something out," he said. "But May, they both have good paying jobs and far too much pride to come asking us for money. They've never asked us for help or money before and they certainly might've had reason to while Noey was really sick."

May's mouth dropped a little more. "What is Noah is sick?"

"He is sick," Ted said flatly and gave a shake of his head.

"But he's almost done his treatment," May said. "But what if he's come out of remission or the cancer has spread or something of the sort?"

Ted looked at her. "May, you shouldn't even be thinking things like that. Not even speculating. Noey is fine. If he wasn't, we would've noticed. Will or Olivia would've said something."

May let out a quiet sigh and nodded and moved on to wiping down another part of the kitchen.

"It better not be that William got another job offer in another city," she muttered instead.

"Willie is always getting job offers in other cities," Ted said. "They aren't going anywhere. They both love Manhattan. I think we should likely just assume that Willie didn't even mean anything by it. That he's just inviting us over for dinner."

May gave him a glance. "Ted," she said quietly, "they never have us over for dinner on a Thursday."

He just looked at her and eventually nodded. It was true. But Ted thought it was best not to dwell on that too much or over think it. He was sure it would be nothing. But his gut just as surely told him it was.

It was going to be a long 24 hours – and not just because of May's fretting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

Will looked across the table at Noah. He was putting on quite the display – completely slumped down in his chair, a pout so big a bumblebee could land on it, and his arms crossed defiantly across his chest. But he also looked completely washed out and tired – probably more so than any of them wanted to truly acknowledge or admit.

The behavior shouldn't be entirely unexpected. Noah did have a stubborn streak. How couldn't he considering where some of his genes came from. Those crossed arms just screamed Olivia – and usually when he did it, Will couldn't help but have to force himself to hide a smile because he looked so much like his mom when she was demonstrating just how pissed off she was and just how unlikely it was that she was going to give away in the argument. But, still, Will knew that Olivia hated when Noah acted out of line in front of company. It didn't matter that the company was his parents and they'd more than seen their share of unruly, rude, and unappreciative kids over the years between him and his brothers and a flurry of grandchildren – most of whom lived next door.

Still, Olivia liked to rule over her child with a bit of a iron grip. She was loving – but strict. And, even though Noah had his share of temper tantrums and talk-backs and lack of manners – when they were out in public or they had company (whoever that was), Olivia tended to be far less lenient with it. Even after Noah was sick, she'd still maintained rules and sternness with him. And even with everything going on now, it didn't look like she intended to change that. Though, he could also see the waiver in her as she tried to talk her son into eating.

"Noah, please, sit up straight and eat your dinner," she pressed at him again.

She'd already said it to him several times throughout the meal but he'd remained steadfast in his refusal to eat. Usually when Noah didn't want to it, it was Olivia who could still manage to convince him. But apparently not that night. Noah had decided he wasn't going to eat and he wasn't budging. Will suspected it was attribution for what had happened that day. He was unimpressed and he was letting them know it in the sort of way that only a seven-year-old could.

Little kids didn't have too much control over things going on in their lives. One thing Noah could control was if he was going to eat. It wasn't exactly like they could force feed him. At least not quite yet.

"I'm not hungry," Noah spat out again, and this time reached his hand out and pushed his dinner plate away from his place at the table – hard, making it clatter and some of the untouched contents fall onto the tabletop.

Will could feel his parents watching the scene – possibly measuring it a bit. But they'd mostly remained quiet and had let him and Olivia try to manage it. At the beginning he'd mostly been ignoring him – figuring he'd pick at his plate, because that's what he usually did anyways. They'd still chitchatted with his mom and dad but as Noah's physical defiance became more and more pronounced, Will and Olivia had both become a bit more engaged in ordering him to show some manners and to eat his dinner. Dad had tried too – offering some friendly teasing. But it'd become just as apparent to him that Noah wasn't interested in his input and he'd known enough to quickly shut-up and leave it up to them instead. Thankfully, Mom had somehow stayed out of it too, which was some sort of God send because usually she really didn't know when to keep her mouth shut – especially when it came to food. But Will could see the looking of concern creasing more and more into her face. He could tell she was weighing the situation. That she was trying to determine exactly what was going on – and that she likely had her suspicions. It was painted across her face.

Olivia pointed at the chicken wing and salad that had tumbled off his plate. "Pick that up," she ordered. "Sit up, and eat."

Noah glared but he at least sat forward and messily cleaned up his mess, glaring at his mom while he did it but then at least licking his fingers free of the wing sauce after he dropped the drumstick back in place.

"Pretty good, right?" Will tried. "Why don't you eat that one?"

"No!" Noah said.

Olivia let out a bit softer sigh. Will knew this was hard for her. She was exhausted too. She was beyond drained. Her head was in a million different places and her heart was breaking into a million pieces again – and in a way she didn't know if it could ever be repaired. She hated having to be stern with her son right now. Will knew that what she likely wanted to do was hold him. Or to just curl into a ball again and cry. Or to order him to invent a time machine and some how go back in time and figure out how to fix this so this just didn't happen. Actually, that's probably more something that he wanted. Olivia wouldn't imagine something so impractical.

"Sweets," she tried a bit more gently. "Daddy picked out these chicken wings just for you. They're your favorite."

"No they aren't," Noah put back to her. "They make me want to puke."

Will had a wing halfway to his mouth when Noah said it and somehow the assertion and the sudden realization made him draw it away and put it back on his plate, wiping at his fingers and contemplating the dinner.

Will had picked up the boxed frozen chicken wings because they'd always been their old standby. One of the few undisputable items that they'd near always be able to get Noah to choke down on his months and months and months of chemotherapy. They weren't exactly what Will would classify as food. Prior to Noah being sick it was something he hadn't really eaten since college – except for the occasional time at the pub as a treat. But when they'd realized it was something their son would eat – they hadn't really cared what their nutritional value was. Hell, they also fed him endless quesadillas and peanut butter out of the jar. Him just eating counted for something.

Will had near automatically made the executive decision it'd be chicken wings for dinner that night when he'd been sent to the store to pick up something for dinner with his parents over. He hadn't thought much of it beyond it was something Noah liked (or so he thought) and it would be quick and easy. He knew neither he nor Olivia really felt like cooking – or having company – even though they needed to have a face-to-face talk with his parents.

But what Will hadn't thought about in his menu choice was that beyond eating the chicken wings, Noah had also done a whole lot of puking up chicken wings during that period of his life. And Will and Olivia had done a whole lot of cleaning up chicken wings in various states of digestion. It hadn't thought of it at the time. He hadn't even thought about it while he was eating his helping of the wings. But now that Noah had said it – he could absolutely see how chicken wings made his son want to puke. It was making him want to puke a bit himself now too.

"If you aren't going to eat your chicken wings, eat some of the salad or the fries, sweets," Olivia pressed.

"No," Noah said again. "I'm not hungry."

"Noah, we never have French fries," Olivia said. "I don't believe you that you don't want to have any of your fries."

"I don't want any of it," Noah said again and pouted even harder.

"You're being very rude," Olivia said. "Daddy picked dinner just for you. We spent time making it and we have Nana and Popa here with us. You are showing very poor manners."

"I don't care," Noah said very firmly.

Olivia sighed and rubbed at her eyebrow. "Then, I'd like you to leave the table, Noah. So everyone else can enjoy the rest of their meal without this show. Please asked to be excused."

He shot her a glare but put very bluntly, "Can I be excused?" It didn't come out as much of a question. It was more of a clear demand.

"Yes," Olivia allowed. "Please go to your bedroom."

"I wanna watch TV!" Noah spat abruptly.

"You're going to go and play quietly in your room and take a bit of a rest," she said. "And when you've calmed down and you're ready to be polite, you can come out and have a visit with Nana and Popa before they go."

Noah's glare got firmer but he stood, pushing his chair back in a way that it tottered and Will thought it might fall. But May reached out her hand and steadied it, giving Noah's back a little shrug before he stormed away. The whole table watched as he did and listened as his door loudly slammed as he disappeared down the hallway.

"Well, I guess you just can't beat Popa's ribs," Ted offered in a small tease after the slam had finished echoing.

Olivia gave him a thin smile at his effort but then directed her eyes to her plate.

"Sorry about that," she offered quietly. "He's not himself today."

Ted shrugged. "We all have our good days and bad. He'll come around," he assured.

Olivia allowed a small nod and picked at her salad with her fork, not drawing any of it to her mouth.

"Well, I think these wings are good, Willie," Ted offered.

"They're just out of a box, Dad," Will said flatly.

Ted shrugged. "Taste fine to me. Where'd you get them?"

"Just the grocery store."

"Which one?" Ted asked in a clearly vain attempt to have any sort of small talk. "Maybe I can track us down some to put in the freezer at home."

"Ah …," Will considered that for a moment. He couldn't even remember what store he'd gone into that afternoon. That's what a blur the day was. It had felt like he was living in a different dimension. That he wasn't really there. That he was having some sort of outer body experience and he was watching and listening and hearing all this happening to some other family. Not his. "I'm not sure …"

He could feel his father looking at him, but he chose not to meet his eyes. He didn't want to.

"The salad is excellent too, Olivia," May tried after a silence had hung around the table.

"It's out of a bag," Olivia provided at a near whisper.

"Oh …," May returned and now eyed Olivia's downturned head.

Will knew that salad out of a bag might be even more telling to his parents – even if everything that had happened so far that night wasn't. But their family lived on salads and they were often elaborate, colorful affairs. Will had his own flair but Liv could go to town with the greens just as much as him. And was more willing to try other types of salads and toppings too. A ready-made bagged salad was near unheard of for them – especially when they were eating at home.

"I'm going to check on him," Olivia said quietly and moved to rise from the table.

Will briefly met her eyes. "Babe, he's fine. He's just not hungry. Let him calm down. We'll get something into him later."

She gave her head a small shake and started to move passed him. He reached and took her hand as she did. She gave him a thin smile at his efforts but continued to walk – holding his hand while she did, until their arms were at full length and her fingers grazed over his and slipped away.

Will sort of felt like all of it was slipping away. Repeatedly. Each minute of that day.

He watched her make her way through the living room and down the short hallway to Noah's door, tapping on it and then cracking it open, saying something inaudible and then disappearing inside and the door clicking shut again.

Will continued looking even though he could feel his parents' eyes on him. He finally looked back to his meal and cast them a small glance.

"He's a little out of sorts, ain't he?" Ted offered.

Will shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just one of those days."

But he could see the tears glassing at his wife's eyes when she'd left the table. He wondered if his parents had noticed too. He also knew, though, that Olivia would've pulled them back in – deep inside her – before she stepped into Noah's room. She wouldn't have gone in if she hadn't. Her son wasn't allowed to see her tears.

"William … is everything alright?" May asked gently after an uncomfortable silence hung around the table for after too long.

"Not really," Will acknowledged after sitting there for another long uncomfortable beat. He didn't know how to answer. This hadn't gone according to plan. It wasn't the way they'd meant to tell them or how they'd intended to have the conversation. He still wasn't sure he should say anything with Olivia away from the table.

"Because we know that you'd said you had something you needed to talk to us about …" May tried to press further.

Will glanced down the hall toward the bedroom door, again weighing if he should talk or if he should wait. He hung his head instead of saying anything.

"You know, Willie, if there's something going on that we can help with …" Ted tried.

Will let out a shaky breath and looked up to find his dad's eyes. He couldn't look at his mom when he said this. He could only imagine her expression and that imagined look was too much even. Though, he could feel his eyes welling and he hated his father seeing that too. But somehow it seemed like the least of the evils.

"Noah's counts are all out of whack," Will said. He saw his father nod and his mouth open slightly like he was going to say something – offer some sort of reassurance. But Will couldn't take that right now. He couldn't hear it – so he pushed on, cutting him off before he could say anything. "No, it's bad," he added. "He's out of remission." He heard his mother gasp. "They don't think just chemo will work this time. They're recommending a transplant."

Saying it had shaken him. Saying it out loud felt differently then all the medical words and phrases and jargon they'd had thrown at them over the past two days. Saying it made it feel more real and more final and more awful. As it shook him to his core, it also shook his shoulders. He felt the tears pressing at the backs of his eyes and the sobs threatening to come out. But he couldn't do that in front of his parents.

He pushed his chair back to rise.

"William …" May called, holding out her hand across the table to him, trying to get him to sit down or to come around to her for a hug. For some sort of comfort.

But he just gave his head a small shake. "I'm going to go check on them," he said and padded away.

That walk from the table to the bedroom door felt like a marathon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

Olivia slowly thread her fingers through Noah's fine hair. Tracing them from the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and up past his widow's peak in gentle, soothing strokes.

It seemed like his hair had just barely come back. Not that it had ever really grown back to the full head of hair that her little boy had had in his toddler and preschooler years – before he'd been sick. Those thick, brown, long shaggy locks were gone. His hair was so much finer than it had been when he was younger – and it had come back in thin splotches across his scalp. Some areas were permanent bald spots while before any boy should have to realize he might have baldness in his future. And it wasn't her dark hair that was on his head anymore either. It was lighter. Far lighter. Almost a straw color – that sometimes just reminded her of the brittleness that had settled in before it'd all fallen out. She tried to think of it as more like her husband's coloring, though. That it was the universe's way of putting a little more of Will into her son. So he could have Daddy's blondness even though he didn't have Daddy's genes. Just like she tried to see the waves that had developed in Noah's hair as reminiscent of Will's curls – not an indication of all the chemicals and poisons that were coursing through her son's body.

It didn't much matter now, though. All the hair that had struggled to come back. That had grown and receded and fallen and regrown over and over again – becoming finer and finer and thinner and thinner and blonder and blonder each and every time – depending on where he was in his treatment cycle. It would all be gone again soon. For how long this time? And would it even come back? She knew that some children, after transplants and the devastating breakdown their body had to be forced into in an attempt to get it to accept the foreign stem cells, didn't ever truly grow their hair back. Not much more than a baby fuzz of cobwebs on the top of their heads.

Not that any of that mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was only hair. But as her fingers ran through it again and again, her mind drifted more and more to that contemplation. Maybe focusing on that single element of all of this was easier than trying to process the rest of it. At least for now.

Noah's watery eyes had long since passed. Will had long since left them be. And, the sounds of him talking in hushed voices with his parents had long since died. The front door clicking shut and locking behind them. She'd heard Will moving around in the kitchen – leaving them alone. She couldn't hear him anymore. A part of her feared that he was sitting on the couch with his own watery eyes or laying up in their bed actually crying – out of her earshot. She didn't want him to be alone. But she also just wanted to be left alone with her son.

Noah had cuddled into her. Leaning against her in a loose hug. His head resting more on her one breast – his ear near her heart – than her shoulder. He was quiet. Stoic. That was her little boy. Always fighting to be so strong in the face of everything. Stronger than her and Will most of the time, she thought. But she also feared that some of it wasn't so much strength as it was that this had become normalcy for him. That he could no longer remember what it looked like to not be sick. That he hadn't known much of a childhood without illness. Without doctors and treatment and pain and possible death hanging over him. Not that they expressed any of it to him on those terms. But it was what it amounted to it – and even if Noah didn't often use those words to describe what he was going through or to express how he was feeling or to question his future – Olivia knew that deep down he must know. He must feel it too. Even if he didn't know how to verbalize it in a vocabulary of an adult. He only had the vocabulary of a little boy. And he should only have the life experiences of a little boy. But instead he had all of this.

"Mommy, how come you aren't saying?" asked quietly after so long in silence had passed between them.

Olivia had started to think she might just be able to hold him – to stroke at his hair and his little bicep and his boney spine – until he eventually fell asleep. That they didn't need to talk. That there was nothing they could say. Because she didn't know what she could say to him – not matter how hard she tried to find words to comfort him and express to him a mother's love, worry, care and concern. Her drive to still do right for him. To fix this for him. To find a way out of this maze – with him still intact. That she wouldn't be exiting it alone. She didn't think she could manage having to find her way out on her own. She didn't think she'd ever leave it if she lost her son. She just couldn't.

She'd thought if he slept she might be able to lay there all night with him in her arms. That she could use that time to try to find some answers. To try to come up with some sort of revelation. Or maybe just to leech some of Noah's strength to try to get her through what was coming. But that wasn't fair either. He needed his strength to carry him through. She couldn't derive that from a little boy.

"Aren't saying what, sweets?" she put back to him.

She thought he must meant not talking. But she didn't think they had much to talk about. At least not what they usually talked about – Star Wars, Lego, Batman, Ninja Turtles, the Yankees, the Knicks, his longing for the next trip to the swimming pool and the next outing to the museum. And, she had no interest in chastising him about his dinner table manners or trying to urge him to think about eating something now. In a way she was grateful for his temper at the table. She hadn't really wanted to eat or visit either. She hadn't wanted to be the one to talk to Ted and May. Though, she felt guilty about leaving that task to Will. But they were his parents. She tried to tell herself that – but it didn't help. She'd have to face them eventually. Just not tonight. She hadn't had the strength that she thought she would. She hadn't with Cragen either.

"Saying what's going on," Noah said flatly.

Her fingers stopped mid-stroke – just at the top of the bridge of his nose. The pause seemed to sit there for an eternity. It knocked her in the gut but then she forced the fingers to continue to rise. Though, as they stroked through his hair, she moved her hand to grip around him and pull him closer to her, rubbing at his arm even more.

"Nothing's going on yet, Noah," she half-lied. But it was true. Nothing was going on yet. Not really. Nothing but talk. Horrible, soul crushing talk that was forever changing her life again and devastating her child's future in a way she had prayed they'd never have to deal with. But it seemed like God rarely heard her prayers. He never really had. Likely because she'd never really believed in Him. And, really, how could she now?

"Yes there is," he protested in a whisper.

Olivia let out a small sigh. She couldn't really expect her son not know something was going on. They'd had appointments two days in a row. That was abnormal. He'd been in the room for much of the talk with the doctor – even if he'd been taken out of the room briefly by the nurse for the worst of the news and that the rest of the talk while he'd been in the room had been done in a way to try to keep it above his true comprehension and without getting into over-specifics. But even if that hadn't been clue enough for him, he would've sensed that her and Will were upset. And, he likely knew himself that something was wrong. He knew he hadn't been feeling well lately. He knew the bruises were back. He knew his fevers were ragging and that his abdomen was tender. He'd complained of all those things.

Her little boy wasn't stupid. She shouldn't have been trying to pretend he was. It was just that she didn't want it to be real yet. She didn't want to have to figure out how to talk about this with him. Because she just didn't know how. You'd think she would at this point. But it just didn't get easier. This was harder. It was worse. So much worse than before.

"Well, tomorrow we're going to go see Maggie," Olivia said carefully, "and Dr. Covens is going to be there too and Nurse Judy and we're all going to talk about what's going on."

Noah gazed up at her. Those deeply intelligent eyes that were just so full of hurt and sadness right now. There was something about them that seemed so muted anymore. There wasn't that sparkle in them. She missed his sparkle. Dancing eyes like Daddy's.

"We go see Maggie for bad stuff," he said.

Olivia gave him a thin, sad smile. It was weak. "That's not true, sweets. Maggie just likes to check in with us to make sure we're all OK."

"But we aren't OK, are we, Mom?"

Him saying it was like another punch to the chest – knocking even more air out of her lungs. The weak smile pulled even more heavily into a frown that she knew she wasn't remotely hiding.

"Is it going to be like last time?" he asked even more quietly.

"No, sweets," she allowed. "It's not going to be like last time."

It so wasn't going to look anything like last time. It didn't matter it was the same doctors and the same hospital. It didn't matter that she had some idea of what to expect and what the future held. That she knew the process and the resources and could envision and prepare herself for what happened next. Because there was no way she could envision and prepare herself for what was going to happen next. Even after everything they'd been through – everything her little boy had been put through – this was incomprehensible.

"Is it going to be badder?" Noah asked meekly.

Her eyes stung with tears at that question. Tears she'd been fighting so hard to keep in that night. That hold day. Tears that had been screaming to be released since they'd been in the doctor's office. That were fighting more and more vigorously as each hour of the never-ending day went on. But they were tears she refused to shed any where near Noah. Not where he could see or hear them. Her brave little boy wasn't crying – and neither would she. She'd put on her brave face too. She'd buck up and figure out how to deal with this. How to blaze a trail. How to protect her child. As best she could – but how she never-endingly seemed to fail at over-and-over-and-over again.

"It's just going to be different this time, Noah," she said and she felt and heard the crack in her voice. She so wished that hadn't been audible.

"Will I need to be in the hospital real long?"

She let a little sigh out. "I don't know, sweets," she said. "Dr. Covens still has to explain it all to us. But we'll all be having some hospital sleepovers again."

"They aren't real sleepovers, Mom," he said and gave her a sad look. "You just call them that to make them sound fun. But they aren't fun."

She gave him a sad smile and reached to stroke at the back of his head again. "I know they aren't fun but we'll try to make them special, Noah. Daddy will put some movies on the iPad and we'll go pick out a new game for your DS. Maybe we'll even be able to find a new card game and coloring book. And I bet Unkie Munchie will bring us a new story to read together."

He buried his face further into her breast. She could feel his hot breath through the fabric of her shirt. The panting of held back tears. She just held him tighter.

"Dr. Covens said 'transplant'," Noah mumbled against her. "Kids who need transplants go in the special rooms."

She rubbed at his shoulder and stared at the ceiling through the dim light of the room. "They do," she agreed. "But remember how the nurses decorate the doors of the rooms of those kids on Transplant Day?"

"No all the kids get Transplant Day," Noah said quietly. "Bradley died."

The tears won their battle at that and she felt a lone tear press out and start its trail down her cheek. Her hand instantly smacked up and feverishly wiped it away.

"Bradley was very, very sick, honey," she said.

"Tabitha died too," Noah whispered.

"She was very, very sick too," Olivia whispered back.

"Am I very, very sick?" Noah asked.

"No," Olivia whispered. "You're just sick, sweets."

She felt like she was lying to him. But maybe it was more that she was lying to herself.

"I don't want to die," Noah said and that time it was his turn for his voice to crack and his sobs started shaking against her. Ravaging his body in tremors that reverberated through her own body. Her body began to tremble too – joining the rumble of his as her own tears and struggled breathing pressed furiously out.

Olivia gathered him even closer to her. Pulling him until his whole body was on top of hers and held in a full hug. Her one hand cupped around the back of his head and her other rested against the small of his back. Her mouth pressing firm kissed against his hair and his temple and his damp cheek. She tried to take in his scent. She tried to calm him. She tried to calm herself.

"You're not going to die," she pressed out firmly. A promise. A covenant. One that she couldn't break. Not for him. Not for herself. "We're going to find you a donor. You're going to get that transplant. And we're all going to see and laugh about what a great poster you get for your door on Transplant Day, Noah. That's what's going to happen."

"Promise, Mom?" he sobbed.

"I promise, sweets. Mommy promises," she sobbed and pressed another kiss into his temple and then rested her cheekbone against his head. Praying and hoping and mediating on just how she was going to make this promise stay true.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

"I want his sample taken and I want me and Will tested before we leave today," Olivia said sternly.

Will wasn't sure she'd heard a thing the doctor had said up to that point based on the barked order. But he also wasn't sure how much he'd been hearing either. It was complete information overload as they bounced through the appointments. And, now, sitting in some new doctor's office in some new super specialized section of the hospital that didn't just deal with cancer or leukemia or treatment or children – it was all about transplants. Bone marrow transplants. Stem cell plants. Whatever you wanted to call it. The terms were so interconnected that Will was starting to get confused about if Noah needed a bone marrow transplant or a stem cell transplant. He guessed it was the same thing but that it sounded like they would likely favor getting the stem cells out of bone marrow rather than just blood because Noah was a child. He thought. He wasn't entirely sure. He was going to have to sit down and digest and look at this pile of information that kept growing and growing in his hands with each new pamphlet and information packet and guidebook and photocopy and release form and consent form they signed. He'd sort of like to talk to Olivia too and try to understand what she'd understood from any of this. But with the way she was now drilling into the doctor – he was starting to think she'd heard and absorbed less than him.

They should've brought some one else. That's really all he kept thinking. They both were so private. They both thought the other's ears were enough. They were intelligent people. They were used to working in stressful situations with lots of information being thrown at them. They were used to functioning in hospital environments at this point. They new how to interact with medical information. But this all felt so different. And hard. … And they should've brought another person who would've hopefully heard and understood any of this better than they could in that moment.

The doctor just gave her a nod. "We will definitely do a swab of Noah before you leave today to start mapping his HLA," the doctor assured.

"You'll swap both of us too," she pressed back again.

The doctor held up a hand, urging her to pause. "OK, Olivia, first we need to get Noah into the system so we can even start looking for a match. That has to happen before we can start testing other people. If we swab you now it's like that your insurance …"

"We'll pay for it out of pocket," she said harshly.

The doctor gave a little sigh. "OK," he allowed. "But, again, I know the first instinct is to assume that the most likely match is going to be the mother or father. However, it doesn't work that way. The most likely match is generally biological siblings – with the same mother and father."

"Noah's an only child," Olivia blurted the obvious that was already well-documented on all their paperwork.

"I know," the doctor nodded. "And, my understanding is that Will, you aren't the biological father?"

"No," Will allowed at a much more muted level then Olivia was speaking. He could see how frazzled she was. She anxiety and agitation was just rolling off her. He rarely saw her like this. But he understood where it was coming from. He knew she was frantic to just find a solution to all of this. And quickly. It felt like an impossible task.

"OK," the doctor said again and cast Olivia a look. "Right now – just right now – it doesn't make a lot of sense to have Will tested. The likelihood of him being a donor …"

But Will bristled at that and sat straighter. "I'm being tested," he said sternly. "My whole family – they're going to be tested."

The doctor sat back in his chair and bit and eyed them. Will knew he likely had conversations like this multiple times a week with new patients and their families. But even as his voice remained level and patient – there was a certain level of visible annoyance that he had to have this conversation over and over again.

"That's fine," he allowed. "But, Will, because you are not the biological father you and your whole family are considered unrelated donors. At this stage our focus – and your insurance's preference – is going to be on familial donors."

"Will's family is Noah's family," Olivia spat through clenched teeth. "That is our family."

"OK," the doctor allowed again. "We'll call it biological donors. Donors who share some of Noah's genetic make-up. The starting point is always testing the siblings and in some cases your insurance company will probably consent to testing the biological parents. To start."

"It doesn't matter what they consent to," Olivia pressed again. "Will and I are paying tested. His family is being tested. We will pay for it out of pocket if we have to."

The doctor allowed a little sigh. "OK, Olivia, we'll swab you today too. But let's talk about Noah's biological father for a minute. Do you have any communication with him?"

Olivia rubbed at her eyebrow. "Not for a while," she allowed after a pregnant pause where Will had wondered if he was going to have to answer for her.

"Would you be able to get in contact with him?"

Olivia sighed and looked down. Will knew that the possibility of them attempting to communicate with Kurt – of opening themselves up to be hurt by him again – had been weighing heavily on her. They'd already talked about it. Cried about it. They already thought they knew exactly what he'd say and do – or wouldn't do.

"We know how to reach him," Will provided on Olivia's behalf. They knew where he worked. They knew who his lawyer was. They could have their lawyer do the dirty work for them if they needed to. Not that hearing that he'd said 'no' through a lawyer would be any easier than having him say it to his face.

"And do you think he'd consent to being tested?"

"I doubt it," Olivia said at a near whisper.

"OK," the doctor nodded and made a small note. "Do you happen to know if he has any other children?"

"No," Olivia said. "Not that I'm aware of. Probably not that he's aware of either."

The doctor cast her a look but made no comment to that. Instead he just tapped something else into their chart and then spun his chair back to face them.

"OK, what about your family, Olivia?" he said. "People who'd share some part of Noah's genetic make-up."

"I don't have family," she put flatly.

He eyed her some more. "We aren't just discussing any siblings. What about aunts, uncles, cousins?"

"No," Olivia shook her head.

Olivia had already expressed to Will that she didn't know if she wanted to reach out to Simon yet. He thought she should but something about it had her floundering. Maybe their last encounter with him. Maybe the questions about her father. The revisiting of her past. He knew they'd likely try to track him down – in jail – eventually. Olivia just wasn't ready to go there yet. At least not verbally with the doctor and he wasn't going to contradict her. Or maybe she was so distracted she was even forgetting she had a half-brother in that moment. That wouldn't surprise him either.

"OK," the doctor allowed again and thought. "Well, that's OK. Only about 30 per cent of patients actually find their donor within their family."

"I thought you said siblings were the best match," Olivia pushed at him.

He nodded. "They are. But even then it's about a one in four chance that match will be in a sibling."

"OK, so if Will and I got pregnant –"

The doctor held up a hand to cut her off. "OK, again, Will is not your son's biological father so the genetic make-up of that child would be a very unlikely match for Noah. And, you'd be looking at a nine month waiting period, anyways," he gave them with a bit of a smile. "After you got pregnant."

Olivia sighed and gestured. "What about … cord blood? You hear about people freezing that all the time. Harvesting the stem cells?"

He allowed a little nod. "And, stem cells from cord blood might be an option for Noah," the doctor allowed. "Generally, with Noah's age and illness, I tend to favor bone marrow. Children seem to do better with it. But sometimes cord blood – which it's a bit more of a blank slate – does do well. We do have lots of cord blood in the registry. But again, we need to get Noah into the registry, do the mapping of his HLA, and then see if we have any matches in the system."

"How likely is it there's going to be a match?" Will asked.

The doctor sighed and sat back in his chair a bit. "It really depends. Stem cell transplants are really more about genetic make-up then something like an organ donation or a blood transplant. It's going to depend on what kind of genetic make-up he ask and how unique his tissue is."

"Olivia's the same blood type as him," Will blurted.

The doctor just shrugged. "That really doesn't have anything to do with stem cells unfortunately. We can hope that Olivia is a match for him but it's extremely unlikely."

Olivia made a small sound. It'd been one she'd been making a lot the past few days. The sound of the air quietly being knocked out of her as far as Will could tell.

"Ethnic and racial background tends to have more to do with it," the doctor provided. "Do you know much about your family's background or his father's?" he directed at her.

Olivia just shrugged. "I don't know. His father's white. WASP. Likely. My mother was Caucasian. My grandparents lived around Albany. I think the family lineage goes back to England."

"OK. What about your father?"

Will got the undertones of his questioning. Olivia's skin tone had a hue to it. But it could be anything. It could be Mediterranean. It could be Eastern European. It could be some Middle Eastern. It maybe even could be so mixed that there could be some Asian or Native or Hispanic even African American somewhere in her lineage and genetic make-up. But she was near white and any ethnicity she had in her was so mixed that she was just as white as the next 'white' person ever was anymore in their multicultural city and country.

"My understanding was that he was white too," she said flatly. "I don't know much about him."

"OK," the doctor repeated his favorite word yet again. "Well the good news is that there's a disproportionately large number of Caucasian donors in the registry so that should increase the probability of finding your son a match."

"How long does this take?" Will asked. "To find him a match in the registry?"

The doctor gave a small shrug. "Again, we really aren't going to know until we map Noah. We could get lucky and it might be a matter of weeks. But we're generally looking at an average of about three months."

"Three months …," Olivia breathed out. It wasn't a question. It was a clear statement of disbelief.

"You have to remember that finding a match in the registry is only the first step. The type of matching that the donors initially do is fairly simplistic. If we see an initial match we have to call them in for more specific testing. We have to check their current state of their health. And, we have to see if they are even willing to be a donor still."

"Why the hell would they be in the registry if they don't want to be a donor?" Olivia snapped harshly. Will could hear the anger in her but when he glanced at her he could see that her eyes were gleaming with the icy look of barely held back tears again he pulled his tightly clasped hands apart in his lap and reached for her hand. She pulled back surprised when he first touched her but then gave him a sad glance and settled, gripping at his hand on her knee. She was holding it far too tightly. There was a pain to the grip.

"Well, some people may have registered some time ago," the doctor said. "We might even just be having trouble tracking them down now. Some might've just have changed their minds. A change in their lives or their health. Or there will be some who are willing to do a donation by the peripheral process – which is very similar to a blood transfusion – but they aren't willing to do actual bone marrow because of the surgery involved. And the pain."

Olivia looked at him. "They aren't willing? They'll get our hopes up by putting their names in the registry. But then they are willing to let my son die because they can't deal with a needle and a little bit of pain?" she hissed out in a near rage. "Do these people have any idea what these children go through? What he has already GONE THROUGH before we're now having to put him through THIS?"

Will gripped her hand even tighter and stroked his thumb across the top of her hand – trying to help her find some sort of calm. He knew it was an impossible task. The fear, the anger, the rage, the sadness. All of it was colliding together. It was just this indiscriminate pool of emotions that were bubbling and seething to the point that it didn't even make sense to try to pinpoint the feelings beyond labeling it as complete and utter devastation.

"Can't we just find our own donor?" Will put forward pleadingly – for all their sakes.

The doctor allowed a little nod. "And, that's where getting yourself tested, Mr. McTeague, and your family … friends … comes in. You certainly aren't responsible for finding your own donor – but encouraging others to get on the registry is helpful."

"So they have to go through the registry?" Will nearly felt himself groan.

"Yes," the doctor said. "It can certainly be marked down that they donated in relation to Noah's case but they'll be placed in the general registry. So they'll potentially have the opportunity to donate to other patients in need in the future, as well."

"And what if they don't want to do that?" Olivia said. "They just turn down some family too."

The doctor gave her a sympathetic look. "These things have to be monitored and regulated in some way, Ms. Benson. It can't just be a free for all."

"OK," Will said, trying to redirect and take over the conversation a bit. "So do we just have them come in?"

The doctor shook his head. "No. We have some materials for you about how to get donors and how to set-up a donor drive. After we get Noah into the registry, they'll be able to provide you with some guidance on that too. They'll send a representative to do the collection at the drive."

"How quickly can we set this up?" Will asked. "Because I'm ready to do it now. Most of my family is in the city. We could do them today. Tomorrow."

The doctor allowed him a thin smile. "It doesn't quite work that way. Again – we need to get Noah into the registry and mapped. You're looking at least a week there. And then you'll have to arrange a time with the registry to host the drive – not to mention the logistics of getting a venue and the testing kits. I think you should expect that to take at least 10 days."

Olivia sighed heavily and looked down. "It's all a waiting game. My son is dying and you're telling us to hurry up and wait."

The doctor gazed at her but she was busy examining the floor. Will knew she was likely doing it to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. She'd been doing a lot of gazing blankly at far off spaces lately.

"Dr. Covens and the rest of Noah's oncology team will be continuing to monitor and treat him until we find a match. His health is going to be managed," the doctor provided.

"Only they're recommending a transplant," Olivia said flatly. "So just how much treatment will they be doing?"

The doctor rolled back to his screen and gazed at it scrolling around. "We're going to have a meeting about Noah's treatment plan on Monday. So we'll get a handle on exactly what his care is going to look like until we're ready to do the transplant then."

"So what happens if someone in my family is a match?" Will asked – trying to move past the minor confrontation.

"Well, you've also got to remember that it's going to be about eight weeks after your donor drive that those individuals are even going to be fully processed and in the system to be spotted on the registry for Noah. So we're still talking about likely a three month period of trying to find a match – even if you host a drive as soon as possible," the doctor said.

Will sighed – letting out a long slow breath that shook. He was ready to cry too and that time he felt Olivia grip his hand tighter.

"I really think what you need to do right now is to go home and get in touch with your insurance provider and get a better understand of what they cover when it comes to transplants. There are going to be elements of this that aren't covered – by the vast majority of plans. So after you understand that, we can refer you to the various financial aid in the hospital or through the registry –"

Olivia cut him off again. She tired, watery and bloodshot eyes echoing with sadness as she glared at him.

"The money is not an issue," she spat in a voice that cracked. "That is secondary to us. We don't care how you do it. Or who you find to do it. But you are going to save my son.

"You are going to fix this," she said and a hand moved up and wiped away a stray tear that had somehow escaped.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

*****CHAPTER WARNING: SEXUALIZED SITUATION. MILD M THOUGH NOTHING VERY GRATUITOUS. ******

Olivia allowed the sensation to wash over her body – riding it out for several moments, while she briefly let her eyes drift shut and her head tilt back in the few seconds of ecstasy. Her hands and fingers pressed more into Will's chest. She could feel his restless hips still pressing up while she came – fighting against her contractions and likely trying to have them push him into his own. But she didn't give him a chance too. As soon as the involuntary spasming of her climax concluded, she let out a slow breath, massaging as his pectorals, and clenched herself tightly around him one more time. It was more for her, though. A final reassurance that her body was done, a small jolt of relief and control with feeling his presence still inside her. It wasn't meant to provide him with any sort of stimulation or enjoyment that might push him over the edge.

Usually Olivia cared about ensuring her husband got as much out of the sex as she did. She was conscious of his wants and his needs. She knew that he often ensured that she got her relief – sometimes twice – before he took his own. And, she knew the checks and balances that went with that. The good and the bad of being the one who got to go first. And, generally, she didn't mind helping him a long to his climax after she'd had hers. But that night was different.

She didn't really care that he hadn't cum yet. She didn't really feel like staying on top of him and letting him pump into her. She didn't really feel like rolling over onto her back and letting him take his that way either.

She'd already gotten what she wanted. And, that was to just feel something else for a little while. To just not think about every else for a little while. To distract herself. To try to find some sort of pleasure. To exert some sort of control in the chaos. To try to let go even when she couldn't. And, it'd worked. For that far too short period of time.

As her exhale finished, without even giving Will a glance, she removed herself from on top of him. He made a small sound as she did. It might've been surprise. It might've been some frustration or disapproval. But she didn't let herself think about it too much either way. She just let herself sink into the mattress instead – and reached to find the blankets, drawing them up tightly around her – usually a clear indication to Will that she was done.

She could feel him gazing at her but he initially didn't offer any comment. So Olivia just focused on continuing to try to ride the buzz from her orgasm. To try to let herself feel something other than the overwhelming sadness and horror that had been haunting her mind for three days now. That deep seeded ache that was eating at her very soul. That she didn't know how to temper at all. That her mind just kept constantly drifting back to no matter how hard she tried to focus on other things to organize and schedule and plan. To give some sense or purpose and meaning and resolution amid the trauma.

She could still feel her heart rate elevated. She could still feel her breathing adjusting to a more normal rhythm as her body came down from its arousal. Thinking about those things. Focusing on them. It seemed like a better place to send her mind for a moment.

Will finally rolled onto his side and cuddled up closer to her – apparently having accepted that she was done taking the lead, done initiating. She wasn't sure he'd accepted that she was actually done. If he wanted more that night – if he wasn't going to wait for his arousal to go down, to ride that frustration – then he was going to have to deal with it himself. And, she'd prefer he didn't beat off in the bed next to her.

He gazed at her some more. But Olivia just kept staring at the ceiling, letting out slow breaths through pursed lips.

His hand finally reached out stroked some of her sweaty stray strands of hair away from her face. She'd really let things build – for her. To ride it out. It'd been a work out. She could still feel it in her thighs – and her sex.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly as his thumb stroked at her cheek.

Olivia let out a small laugh. She knew there was a touch of annoyance to it. She didn't mean for it to be hurtful. But she also just couldn't hear it that night. She didn't want to hear it. Will told her it all the time. More than he needed to. Likely more than any woman needed to hear from her husband – or at least that's how she felt in that moment. She didn't care he was attracted to her. She didn't want to hear small sweet talk that seemed like nothing more than a vain attempt to persuade her into taking his dick into her hand or letting him mount her. She didn't feel beautiful in that moment at all. Far from it. She felt tired and sweaty and exhausted to the point she was sure she most look like some haggard 70-year-old lady anymore – and not her usual mid-aged self that she didn't think had looked too pretty for some years now while she coped with caring for a sick little boy and a career riddled with perverse assholes and atrocities.

"You are," he said again, like he'd just heard all her interior thoughts. His hand ran down to her shoulder and then down her side, tickling at some of her ribs.

"That was great," he added gently. Though, Olivia knew it wouldn't have been that great for him. He hadn't cum – and she wasn't really doing anything to dispose herself to help him with that now.

And, beyond that, Olivia knew that Will didn't exactly love when she went on top anyways – when she took control. It was part of their repertoire. She took the lead and control and ownership of her orgasm – or both of their orgasms – on a regular enough basis. It was just that Will usually preferred to be the one in control when she came and he preferred even more to be in control when he came. He wanted the upper position. He was rare he let himself cum when she was on top. He'd near always exert dominance when he was ready to take his. So how the evening had played out wouldn't have been his definition of 'great sex' by any means. It wasn't Olivia's either. It'd just been sex. She'd gotten off. She'd pretty much used his body to achieve it. It was likely nearing some sort of violation of him – though he'd been a willing participant. His willingness had likely included the expectation that he'd be orgasming before the end of the evening too, though – and not by his own hand.

"You know what would've made it better?" he asked. She had a pretty good idea. But before she could say anything – to likely rather callously tell him to go into their bathroom and take care of it – his hand at slipped under her tank and caressed at the sensitive skin across her stomach and then tugged at the hem. "If you'd taken this off."

Olivia batted his hand away – and she could feel him eyeing her more. She tugged the hem back into place.

"I think you got enough of a show," she muttered. She still hadn't looked at him – keeping her eyes fixated above her. There was a crack. She hadn't noticed that before. Their apartment was now cracking apart just like their lives. She wondered if she should be worried.

"But I like these," Will said and leaned forward a bit. His one hand landed on his left breast, massaging at it through the material of her tank top, while his mouth landed on the fabric over her other breast.

She nudged at his shoulder – trying to give him the hint, gently. To get him to move away. "Breasts look funny when you're having sex," she muttered.

He came up for some air and shot her a smile. "Your breasts look awesome when we're having sex," he said.

Olivia caught his eyes at that and gave him a slightly more patronizingly annoyed look and nudged more firmly at his shoulder, trying to get him to move away from her breasts and possible to end the entire way he was draped against her body. She could still feel his waiting arousal poking at her hip now. She didn't want to. It would only make her feel guilty about it – and she had nothing to feel guilty about. There were lots of times that he got off and she didn't. Though, usually he'd keep trying to get her there until she told him to stop.

"Will, I'm done," she told him firmly.

He gave her a bit of a hurt look. "Really?" he asked – like he wasn't quite ready to comprehend that.

"Yes," she said and went back to looking at the ceiling.

She could feel him looking at her. It felt like for a long time but he finally let out a long sigh and settled down next to her, repositioning himself so his flagging erection wasn't anywhere near her – or at least wasn't pressing into her. He moved and pulled the blankets up around himself too and lay on his back looking at the ceiling for a bit too.

"Well, I, for one, am really looking forward to having quesadillas on a daily basis again," he said flatly after a time and glanced at her.

She turned her head and looked at him. "That's not funny, Will."

He shrugged at her. "Steak orders at 3 a.m.?" he suggested instead – with a dead serious tone. She tried not to smile but shook her head and looked away to try to hide that he'd earned a small tug at the corners of her mouth. "Com'on, Liv," he said. "We have to laugh once and a while. Or else we're just going to be crying."

She reached and rubbed at her eyebrow. "Yep," she allowed. And crying – or really, more crying and endlessly hiding the tears – was pretty much the plan.

Will sighed. "Well, I don't think Noah wants us trying the next however many months. And, he certainly doesn't need us crying either."

Olivia offered no response. She didn't want to get into an argument with him that night. She didn't want to talk about what Noah did or didn't need. Right now there was only one thing he needs – a fucking bone marrow donor. And, there was no way they were going to revise that issue that night no matter how much they talked about it or argued about it. They'd just make themselves more upset. She didn't want to be upset. Not more than she already was.

Apparently he sensed that and stayed quiet. Letting them lay there in the dark and the silence. But she didn't think either of them would really sleep that night. She was sort of waiting for him to pretend he was sleeping so she could slip out of bed. If he didn't soon, she'd likely use a post-sex pee as an excuse to get up, get dressed and slip downstairs – not likely to return. She hadn't decided if she'd sit in Noah's room staring at his little sleeping form or if she'd sit in the living room and pretend like she was watching the muted TV. Either way it would just be her and her torturous thoughts.

"If you had any idea what you were getting in to, you never wouldn't gotten involved with me," Olivia muttered. She fell quiet as it fell out of her mouth. She hadn't realized she was saying it. Not out loud. She hadn't even fully realized she was thinking it.

She felt the mattress move again and cast Will a small glance to see that he had again turned his head to look at her.

"I have absolutely no regrets about getting involved with you," Will said. "Actually, I have one. That I didn't get involved with you sooner."

She eyed him. "You're laying it on really thick tonight, Will," she said. "It's not going to get you anywhere. I'm done."

He gave her a pained look and moved his eyes away from her. "I heard you," he said. "I'm not pushing you for anything. I never have."

The quiet settled around them again. Any moment of distraction – any feelings of something different that wasn't pain – they seemed to have faded into the darkness. It all just felt like the same muddled mess again. That dull sharp ache that seemed to be pulsing somewhere in her that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Or maybe more it was pulsing between them both.

"Why are you still here?" she asked quietly.

His head moved slightly and he gazed at her for a moment. "Because you're here. Because if I go downstairs I'll just …" he shrugged into the mattress and looked away from her again.

"Not that," Olivia whispered and let a pregnant pause hang between them. "Why would anyone go through this by choice?" she asked wispily.

He didn't move his head to look at her that time – he kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling too. "It's not by choice," Will said flatly. "He's my son too. I love him too. You're my family. You do what you need to do for your family – and for your children."

"You could've …" she shook her head. "You could be leading a whole different life right now."

"I don't want to be living a different life right now," Will said and looked at her. "I like my life. I'm happy."

She gave him a look. She didn't know either of them knew what happy was. That they knew how to be happy. How could the be happy with everything they were going through? Everything they had gone through? Sure – they had happy moments. They learned to find happiness in daily mendacities. But were they happy? She didn't think they could be. Could this be defined as happy?

"I am," Will insisted.

"You could've had whoever you wanted –" she pressed, but he cut her off.

"I hate when you say that," he snapped. "It makes it sound like … I'm not good enough for you. Or you think you aren't good enough for me. I hate that. I got exactly what I wanted. I got who I wanted. I wanted you – and I wanted Noah. That's still what I want. That's all I want. I want my wife and my son – alive and happy."

His voice cracked a bit and he really looked away from her then. She saw his one hand move up to his face, trying to swipe away tears – to hide them from her.

Olivia let out a small sigh and shifted, closing the few inch gap that had lay between them and cuddling against him. She draped herself over him, giving him a tight half-hug. She placed a kiss near his jaw line. His face was stubbly. She wasn't sure when he'd last shaved. Likely days ago. Then she rested her head against his shoulder. His arm came up around her, gripping at her tightly – like she was some kind of life preserver. She didn't know she could be that for him – or for Noah. She barely felt like she was keeping afloat herself.

"Sorry," she said. "I never know the right things to say to you. I make a pretty bad wife."

"That's not true either," Will said quietly.

"It is," she said. "On some level. I don't know how to be a wife. I don't know how to take care of a husband."

"I think you're doing just fine," Will said. "You've got it figured out at least as much as I've got figured out how to be a husband."

"You're a good husband," she said and gripped at his shoulder more tightly.

"You could pay me back in sexual favors," Will said teasingly.

Olivia shifted her head slightly so she could find his eyes. "Are you really that frustrated right now?"

He gave his head a small shake. "I'm OK," he said softly but she did know her husband well enough to know that there was still some longing in his statement. And, she supposed she couldn't blame him. Still, she placed her ear back against his heart and gazed downward. At least the visible evidence of his arousal and frustrations had faded.

"So much of our marriage – our whole relationship – has been focused on Noah," she said.

He stroked at her hair. "It's supposed to be. He's our son. He's sick. We're his parents."

She let out a shaky breath. "I can't lose you in all this too," she said in a voice that was choked with the mucus of a building sob.

"Hey," Will called at her and tilted his fingers under her chin until she again found his eyes. They lulled so dull even in that dim light. So tired and sad too. "You aren't losing me. You aren't losing either of us. That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that," she said and her voice cracked even more.

"I know that I'm not ever bailing," he said. "I'm in this 100 per cent for life, Liv. Through sickness and in health. I'm here."

She let out a rattled breath and he tilted his own head and found her lips. She briefly thought about stopping him. To again say she was done. But his breath – the air from his lungs – felt so good and she parted her lips for him. Feeling his tongue and his lips. Tasting him. She let herself feel all of it again. The distraction. The love. The support. The only person who was likely to at least remotely understand what she was feeling. What she was going through. And, she let the kiss deepen.

Will gently adjusted her as their kiss continued – as she didn't protest, as it grew more passionate. As their love and commitment and their struggle to cling to anything to find some sort of reality that they could grasp onto and call their own and right and normal – throbbed through them.

Will had reclaimed the lead. He'd taken over the role as husband. And his touches remained gentle and nurturing as he again played at her arousal in a loving way. As he tried to help her feel something that wasn't the pain and sadness. He was a much better spouse than her.

She'd let him nestle between her spread legs – his arousal again rubbing against her in gentle rocking motions, though he made no move to yet enter her. Instead, he continued to drape part of his weight over her, kissing her and caressing at her face and hair. Occasionally reaching to trace fingers along her outer thighs and to her knees.

Olivia could feel her arousal spreading just as much as she could feel his pressing against her.

"Mom?" she heard down at the bottom of their stairs. "Mommy? Are you awake?"

Will made a small sound of the tiniest bit of frustration. But his movements stopped. His kissing moved away from her mouth, though he still stroked at her face, drawing her hair away from it, sitting more up on his elbows, his weight pulling away from her.

"Yes, sweets, we're still awake," Olivia called. "Do you did something? Do you have an accident in bed?"

"I can't sleep," Noah said pleadingly. "Can I come up?"

Will let out a slow breath and rolled away from her. Olivia instantly felt his absence and wished he hadn't left. But he shuttled to his side of the bed and gazed down at the floor. When he didn't seem to find what he was looking for he lifted the covers and then stooped, pulling out his scrunched up boxers from the foot of the bed. He stood, pulling them on – casting her a look as he went.

He peeked around the top of the stairs and flicked up the light – giving their small son a thin smile.

"We can't sleep either, sweets," he said and started down the steps. "Let's give Mommy a minute and then we'll all have a tea and watch an episode of Clone Wars."

"Batman?" Noah said as Will disappeared out of Olivia's sight in his decent.

"Sure," Will said. "We can watch that instead."

"Or it too," Noah said confidently. He didn't sound drowsy in the least. "BOTH!"

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe they could all be awake together. Maybe they could all watch another sunrise come up together. They could go for yet another little walk together. They could try to find the mundane happiness of family life together. Because happiness – some sort of small Heaven – could exist in a living Hell. Couldn't it?


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

"I'm just saying – three days, Nick," Amanda said as she poured a cup of coffee.

Nick shrugged and popped the tab on his Red Bull. "Cragen says she'll be in today."

"That's not what I'm saying," Amanda protested and looked at him from doctoring her brew. "I know. She takes Wednesday mornings off to take Noah in for his things. That she's has days off for his appointments. But three days? Three unscheduled days?"

Nick shrugged again exited the kitchette. "I think, Liv wouldn't like us talking about her – or her son – behind her back."

Amanda sighed and went in pursuit of him. "Three days, Nick. Something has to be up – and not anything good."

Nick cast her a look. It had certainly occurred to him. He knew his partner's usual schedule pretty well too – and this wasn't it. And, Cragen hadn't given him anything to calm his fears. Nick wasn't even sure the Captain knew anything. It seemed like he was just getting heads up as they went along too that Olivia wasn't going to be in.

But not in three back-to-back days? When he knew she was taking her son in for some kind of follow-up appointment? His mind was definitely swimming. He couldn't see a positive reason for her abscene. And, unfortunately they weren't exactly at the point in their partnership that he could shoot her a text or make a call to see if everything was alright. He figured they were just vaguely getting to the point that Liv almost respected him. But what she respected was that he kept his distance and didn't stick his nose too far into her business.

That was a hard line to walk – because he was concerned. He did care. He had a kid too. Almost Noah's age. And, he couldn't imagine what her family was going through. He didn't want to have to imagine. And if something worse was happening now? Nick wasn't sure how'd he cope. How the fuck would his partner cope? Though, he supposed she had good family. That had to be a support network. And, Cragen seemed to have her back in all of this.

"Liv or the Captain will tell us when something comes up that we need to know," Nick provided.

"You mean, the next time Will is in here and lets something slip, we'll know what the hell is going on," Rollins provided.

Nick gave her a look.

"She's your partner," Rollins added. "Does she ever tell you anything?"

He glared. "She tells me what she feels I need to know."

"And you don't think maybe we should know if her kid is sick again," Rollins put to him.

"I don't think it's any of our business," Nick said.

"We work with her," Amanda protested, but Nick wasn't listening anymore. His eyes fixed over Rollins' shoulder as Olivia entered the squadroom. She looked beyond exhausted.

"Hi, Liv," he offered and Amanda promptly shut up and slowly turned to take in the broken-looking woman.

"Hey, Liv," she said with a small smile. "Good to have you back."

Olivia barely acknowledged them, glancing around the squadroom that was still near empty. Only he and Amanda were stupid enough to be that early as they still attempted to make their good early impressions.

"Cragen in yet?" Olivia asked, gazing at his closed office door.

"Ah, no," Nick said.

"Likely won't be in for a bit," Amanda added.

Olivia nodded and pulled her arms tightly around her, her eyes still fixed on the door.

That worried Nick. It didn't look like she wanted to be there and it definitely didn't look like she intended to stay. He knew that didn't ease his suspicions any, so he doubted that Rollins was calming. Only she was far better than him at sticking her foot in her mouth.

"How's Noah doing?" she asked.

Olivia slowly turned around and finally seemed to look at them. Or at least she was looking in their direction. Really, she was likely looking passed them into some depths of nothingness. Her eyes looked so lost in a way Nick had never seen in her before. He might've only known her for a handful of months, but she always came across as so intense. She always seemed rather pissed off or rather on point. Her emotions rarely seemed to betray her. Though, that likely meant she had a lot of practice burying them, which also likely wasn't a good thing.

"His appointment go OK?" Amanda pressed as the silence hung in the room – a room that rarely seemed so silent.

Olivia just shook her head. Nick wasn't sure if she was shaking her head to acknowledge that Noah's doctor's appointment hadn't gone well or if she was shaking her head out of whatever daze she was in. But, he also didn't think he needed the head shake to know the answer – and neither did Rollins.

"I'm going to go up to the Cribs for a bit until Cragen gets in," Olivia muttered and started to wander away, rubbing at her eyebrow as she went. "I haven't been sleeping."

They watched her go.

"She just got here," Rollins said with some surprise.

"I don't think she's staying long," Nick provided.

He wondered what that meant for the squad – because based on the looks of his partner, she was at least going to be out the rest of the week. He suspected it was probably going to be a lot longer than that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: Frailty**

**Author: ZombieJazz**

**Fandom: Law &amp; Order: SVU**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them. Law and Order SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The characters of Will (and his family) and Noah have been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.**

**Summary: As Olivia adjusts to her new squad, her family life is again shaken. She must struggle to find a way to balance her past and questions about her own lineage and her son's paternity while trying to find answers that her child's life are dependant on. Through it she's forced to re-examine the meaning of family, marriage, motherhood, and the significance her job plays in her life. This story takes place about a year after the conclusion of Undeserved in my AU series of stories and is a direct continuation of where Rollercoaster was headed.**

**Author's Notes: This AU series is for SVU fans and readers who want Olivia to have something that resembles a more normal life outside of work and a family of her own - hopefully somewhat realistically within the canon of SVU. My stories are not EO and never will be. You may want to read some of my other ones for context on the characters in this AU first - though, it's likely fairly self-explanatory on its own too.**

**WARNING: THIS STORY MIGHT KIND OF BE A SPOILER FOR READERS OF UNDESERVED AND A DEFINITE SPOILER FOR ROLLERCOASTER.**

**THIS STORY IS A CONTINUATION OF WHERE ROLLERCOASTER WAS HEADED. AS THAT STORY IS CURRENTLY AT A STANDSTILL BUT I GET SEVERAL REGULAR REQUESTS ABOUT THE STATUS OF THE LIV/WILL/NOAH STORIES, I DECIDED TO PROVIDE THIS GLIMPSE OF WHERE IT WAS/IS HEADED. THIS STORY MAY EXIST AS A STANDALONE OR MAY EVENTUALLY BE ABSORBED INTO ROLLERCOASTER AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE.**

Cragen couldn't find words. He felt like they'd had this conversation already. That they shouldn't be having it again. That it was somehow a déjà vu that was an even larger nightmare. It was even harder to find any words to say – to form an coherent thoughts – when his detective was sitting across from him looking so distant. That was different than last time. Last time they had this discussion Olivia had just looked tired. She had seemed organized but stressed. Frantic but in control. Sad but still in denial. This time she just seemed empty. He knew she was likely just numb but it somehow seemed to be more than that.

"Are you going to talk to your union rep?" he finally managed to ask.

Her eyes slowly came up to him. She'd been examining the floor in some sort of concentrated interest. Perhaps it was more that she was just avoiding his eyes and having to see what he was thinking or feeling and having to interact with that. Somehow Cragen was grateful for that – because he didn't know he'd found any words or thoughts or feelings that he felt comfortable sharing. He was still trying to organize any thoughts or words or feelings around any of this. To find something meaningful or helpful to say. But it was proving a struggle.

"I will," she allowed.

"You don't want to do that first?" Cragen asked. "To try to renegotiate your Com-Care agreement?"

She let out a slow sigh. "We don't want to weigh into that right now. It was … too stressful … having to deal with that on top of everything else last time."

Cragen tapped at his desk top. "Olivia … I really think you should talk to your union rep—"

"Will and I talked about," she cut him off with a sternness about her. A defiance. A mother bear protecting her cub that Cragen knew not to challenge. "I'll take the leave. I'll take it unpaid if I need to."

Cragen nodded and sat back in his chair and looked at her carefully. She was glaring at him – but there was a glint to her eyes. He could recognize the tears she was holding back.

"OK," he allowed. "You'll have to file that paperwork with H.R. but I can put in a good word for you. Try to see to it that it isn't completely unpaid. You com-care is still in place …"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said. "We've decided. He's not going to alone during this. I'm not going to be … wasting time … here."

"OK," Cragen allowed again. He didn't know what more to say to that. What could he say? She wasn't wrong. Noah needed his mother now. Olivia needed to be with her child. "Is Will taking some time off too?"

She nodded but also seemed to shrug, rubbing at her eyebrow. "We haven't entirely figured out his scheduled yet. He's more complicated. He's got his classes, his students, his research. Deadlines. Speaking engagements booked."

"I'm sure he'll sort it out," Cragen tried.

"He will," she allowed meekly. "It's just not a one meeting and some paperwork thing. It will take some time. He's been off this week too."

Cragen gave a little nod and tried a thin smile at that. He knew that William McTeague had been a key support in getting her and her son this far. It just sounded like it was now going to be a whole new measure of struggle – and one that might not have quite as storybook ending as previously. But Cragen didn't much want to think about that. He knew what losing a wife to tragedy was like. He didn't want to even begin to imagine what losing a child to cancer would be like. And, he certainly didn't want for his detective to have to go through that. Not when she'd already been through so much. Not when she already looked so changed – and so broken – sitting in front of him.

"What do you want me to tell the others?" he asked.

"Whatever you think is best," she said flatly.

He sighed and slouched back in his chair. "They're already asking about you, Olivia."

Her shoulders shrugged incrementally. "Then tell them," she said. It sounded like she didn't care. But he knew she did. Deeply.

"I know the squad has a different feel," Cragen allowed carefully. "I know they're still new. But they do care."

"Then tell them," she allowed a bit more sternly and again cast him a glare.

He sighed again. "Have you thought about protecting the Detectives' Association?"

"I'm sure the Endowment will be alerted as soon as I put in my paperwork," she said quietly.

"But the Detectives' Association has done bone marrow drives in the past," he suggested. "Maybe they could help with that?"

"We want to organize it ourselves," she provided at a near whisper. Some things didn't change – Olivia had always been about control.

"But they could send out a memo. Get more people coming out for you," he suggested but then backed down slightly when he heard the franticness in his own voice. "I could reach out to the Captain's Association too," he tried – getting it out slightly more evenly. "And the Endowment would be a good resource."

"OK," she allowed quietly. "That makes sense. I'll let you know when we've got it organized."

"Will your father-in-law be helping with the organization?" Cragen asked.

Olivia let out a slow breath and looked up at him. "We haven't talked to him about all that. But, yes, knowing Ted, he'll have the whole FDNY out."

Cragen tried to offer her a gentle smile. "That's good," he said. "I'm glad."

Olivia just went back to looking at her feet without comment.

Cragen couldn't think of more to say or ask. Actually – he could think of lots more he wanted to spew out. But he just didn't think that any of it would be helpful. He didn't think she wanted to hear it. He didn't think she wanted to try to form answers to any of the questions or demands he had running through his head. The thoughts he had on how to try to organize this – to get a task force on finding Noah a match as quickly as possible. To salvage this situation – for him and Olivia. And even for Will and the whole of the McTeague clan. That family didn't need more tragedy to add to their infamy. Especially not now that the tragedy would belong to one of his own.

Looking at Olivia sitting there all he could think of was the day Noah had been born. How he'd rushed to the hospital then when he'd gotten the call from Elliot about her emergency C-section. How Olivia hadn't wanted him there then either. But how he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

All he could think of was the first day she'd brought the baby into the precinct and Cragen finally got to hold him. He'd been so nervous. He wasn't good with babies and he'd very rarely had the opportunity to hold any. He'd thought he was going to break Noah. His heart had pounded in a way that it rarely had in any of his career oriented situations. And then Noah had spit up on them. Giving a moment of levity for the rest of the squad – but only reaffirming for Cragen his fear that he'd broken the infant.

He thought about his visits while Noah had been in the hospital previously. About his moments of looking so sick and the fear then that he might be lost. And then he thought about the moments that Noah had looked like a happy, silly, playful little boy – even if he didn't look particularly healthy. But he was a bright, funny child even if he was somewhat reserved.

It didn't feel like this should be happening. It shouldn't be happening.

"I need to tell John," Olivia finally said at an almost inaudible whisper. "I don't know how."

"I can tell him," Cragen offered and Olivia slowly looked up at him. The glint in her eyes was more noticeable and she looked away.

They both knew that John Munch would take it hard. That for all the teasing he'd given Olivia over the years – he saw her as a daughter almost as much as Cragen did. That for all the ribbing about her pregnancy and who the father was and her romance with William McTeague – John Munch adored both Olivia's child and her husband. That he was so incredibly relieved and tickled he had the two in her life. And, that Munch would happily dote on either of those two boys like he did few other people. And both Noah and William allowed it. Noah to a point that his connection with the man was palpable when Cragen saw them in the squadroom together. There wasn't quite words to capture what he saw between the little boy and his Unkie Munchie – as Olivia had labeled him to finally get back at him for all his teasing over the years. But he didn't think Munch would tolerate any other name – not now. And, he didn't want to imagine the look on John's face when he was told what Noah and Olivia … and Will … were now facing.

But Cragen suspected John might already know. None of the detectives in his squadroom were stupid. They all knew something was up. It was just now that it was official.

Cragen didn't want it to be official. There were so many other things that he'd like to make happen. Some many other things that he'd bend over backwards to do for Olivia. But he wouldn't have imagined that having to tell her colleagues that her son was dying was going to be one of them. And, it was a duty, despite being Captain, he didn't feel ready to do. But he'd figure it out.

"Thank you," Olivia allowed, her voice quiet and cracking.

Cragen didn't think it was something he should be thanked for. And, he didn't think he should be thanked yet. Not for anything. But especially not for this.


End file.
